Massive Attack
by bj
Summary: Musical therapy. Colin/Ephram UST.


it's: massive attack  
by: bj  
in sum: colin doesn't know what he wants to hear. musical therapy.  
label: colin. colin/ephram.  
rating: g.  
sissies: i know you'll have no spoilers. set between "the price of fame" and "snow job."  
legalities: don't own, don't sue.  
i say: mmm. music. all that italicised stuff? "tear drop" by massive attack. album: "mezzanine." and really, hear the whole thing because it's great and very colin.  
archive: ask and it shall (probably) be given.  
you say: i feed you, you feed me back. allcanadiangirl@lycos.com or commentato, mr. roboto.  


massive attack 

It occurs to him one afternoon during this homework thing that Ephram always has something in his right ear. "What is that?" Colin asks.  
  
"Just my discman." He pulls it out of his pocket, duct-taped and stickered. "Does it bother you?"  
  
"No. Does what bother me?"  
  
"That I listen to music while we're studying."  
  
Colin imagines he probably used to do the same thing. "No."  
  
Ephram holds his gaze. "'Cause I'd stop if it bothered you."  
  
"It doesn't bother me at all," Colin insists. It bothers him that he has no idea what kind of music he likes. "Go ahead."  
  
Ephram nods, setting the discman on the table, and they go back to the Civil War.  
  
*  
  
Colin begins an excavation. There are no towers or zippered binders in his room. There isn't even a stereo. He opens his closet and pulls aside all the clothes he doesn't really like (anymore). He looks for cds, tapes, anything. A box labelled "music," like he wishes there were boxes labelled "Mom," "people in general," "math." He puts his forehead against the closet wall. He wonders if there's any reason why he wouldn't have had music in his room.  
  
"We always kept the cds downstairs," his mother says. "In the den."  
  
He wonders why they would have done that, but doesn't ask. It's best not to ask his mother too many questions, she gets upset.  
  
Sure enough, in the entertainment centre there is a drawer labelled "Colin." He puts his fingers under the pull and hesitates. He thinks for a second that when he pulls it open, Colin the First's breath will leak out and if he opens his mouth it will just flow into him and he'll remember everything. His fingers tighten and he's about to leave it closed when he has to know.  
  
Three rows of closely-packed jewel cases. He pulls one up at random. "Nelly?" he asks the empty room.  
  
*  
  
They are the only people in the house.  
  
Ephram is nodding his head rhythmically and tapping his pencil on his notebook. Colin leans closer and sees that Ephram's eyes are closed. There is a faint tinny noise coming from the unfortunate-looking discman. Colin watches Ephram immersed in whatever he's hearing, it doesn't sound that great from outside Ephram's head. Colin would like to be between Ephram's ears. Ephram's lips start moving and Colin figures he must really like this song. He wishes he could hear it, because he really likes Ephram and if Ephram likes this song he's pretty sure he'd like it too.  
  
Colin blinks and sits back. He's also pretty sure he didn't mean to think that, and if he did, he'd like to know why he thought it that way, because he did think it that way, and.  
  
Ephram starts writing again. The pencil over rough paper nearly drowns the fading song and Colin's racing heart.  
  
*  
  
Amy is taking him for a walk. He wants to ask Amy if he liked music, but he doesn't want a story about "their song" or the first cd he bought her or what his favourite pre-school round was. He doesn't want to know if they had any of those mysteriously romantic mix tape things.  
  
He'd like to know what Amy listens to, just so he can compare it with what Ephram listens to, but she's talking about her friends and their friends, and how they were totally like this and like that. Ephram doesn't talk the way Amy talks, so he can imagine there would be a difference between their musical tastes.  
  
He nods and says, "Yeah, really," at intervals. He's well aware this is the best way she knows to make him better.  
  
*  
  
On Friday night Dr. Brown asks Colin to stay for dinner. Since his mother isn't home to say no and his father thinks it's a great idea, he does. They eat egg drop soup and chow mein and some sort of breaded chicken with nuts and he likes it. His family doesn't eat Chinese food. At least, not since he's been home.  
  
"That's probably a good thing," Dr. Brown says. "It's really not very good for you."  
  
Ephram swallows. "But it's okay for your own kids to eat it?"  
  
Delia giggles.  
  
After Colin isn't much help with the dishes, Ephram says they should go upstairs and Colin follows him.  
  
Ephram sits on the bed and starts flipping through one of those black zippered binders. There's room beside him but Colin sits in the desk chair and spins it a couple times.  
  
When he comes to a full and complete stop Ephram is sort of smiling at him. "What do you want to hear?" he asks.  
  
"Whatever," Colin says. It's a word he recently learned the myriad meanings of and he likes to use it when he really doesn't know the answer. He looks around the room. Ephram has towers in each corner and shelving systems on every wall and loose cds on every surface.  
  
"What do you like?" Ephram asks.  
  
Colin shrugs. "A little of everything." It's what he likes on his pizza, so he figures it's a safe answer.  
  
Ephram smiles the whole way and Colin spins the chair again because he doesn't want to be caught staring. "A little of everything. Yeah, right." Ephram pulls a disc from the binder and flops over the bed to put it into the stereo.  
  
After a second something petty and loud and mean starts ripping Colin's ears. Colin winces and looks at Ephram, who's smirking and bobbing his head. "Okay, okay," Colin shouts. "I don't like this!"  
  
When Ephram has made the torture stop, Colin can hear that he's laughing. "I didn't think so. You don't strike me as a death metal kind of guy."  
  
There's a knock on the door and Ephram mutters something unintelligible and nasty before he gets it open. "Hi, Dad. Isn't it a lovely evening?"  
  
Dr. Brown tries not to smile and almost fails. "I've got to say it'd be nicer without the soundtrack. Keep it down, Ephram. Delia's going to sleep."  
  
Ephram scoffs and says, "Delia's reading Superman comics with her nightlight," loud enough to be heard in the next room.  
  
A faint squeak comes from down the hall and Dr. Brown shakes his head. "In any case. Use those sixty-dollar headphones I bought you, okay?"  
  
"Fine." Ephram is about to close the door on his father's hand when Dr. Brown calls Colin's name.  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"You staying over?"  
  
Ephram looks back at him and Colin can't tell what answer he wants to hear, so he gives the one he wants to give. "If it's all right with you, sir."  
  
"It's all right if you stop calling me sir." Colin smiles and Dr. Brown smiles and Ephram rolls his eyes. "But make sure you call your folks and say good night."  
  
"I will, Dr. Brown."  
  
"Good night, guys."  
  
Ephram is crowding his father out of the room. "Yeah, yeah. Good night."  
  
The door shuts firmly and Ephram deflates into the person Colin hopes he knows fairly well. Ephram approaches Colin and reaches over his head to pull a pair of thick headphones off a shelf. Colin leans out of his way and doesn't let himself look where Ephram's shirt and jeans gap.  
  
As he plugs the phones into the stereo, Ephram gripes, "He's always complaining about how much money he spends on me, but he never says no at the check-out."  
  
"Yeah," Colin says, and he hopes he sounds commiserating.  
  
Colin's parents buy him anything he expresses the even the most minute interest in. At first his mother didn't want to get him anything new, she thought being surrounded, suffocated, by Colin the First's things would help him. His father had a talk with her, he had grown while comatose, after all, and now he has whatever he wants.  
  
Colin looks up at Ephram as Ephram tries to pull the desk chair closer to the stereo. Whatever money can buy, at least. "You think I should get up, maybe?" he asks.  
  
"Nah," Ephram says. He goes around to Colin's back and pushes. Colin grabs the bedspread with his good hand, drags forward with his feet and they manage the two yards.  
  
Ephram vaults back onto the bed. He pulls another cd out of the binder. Just before he puts it in the disc tray, Colin blurts, "No more jokes, okay?"  
  
Ephram gives him a puzzled look. "Okay," he says, sliding the cd back into the binder.  
  
He starts flipping the binder's pages slowly, then he closes it all together and reaches under the bed. He pulls up another binder, a different brand, with an embroidered logo on the front, and opens it. He goes directly to the middle of the binder. He runs a finger down the cd faces, Colin watches his mouth move and wonders what he's saying.  
  
Ephram's mouth stops and smiles slowly. He looks up at Colin. "This, you'll like."  
  
Colin really has no choice but to believe him. He wants music very badly.  
  
Ephram puts his pinkie through the centre of the disc as he lowers it into the tray. He hands Colin the headphones. Colin fits them over his ears and they feel uncomfortable.  
  
Ephram presses a button, then another a few times.  
  
A heartbeat and a metronome drop into his ear. Ephram gives him a hopeful thumbs-up. Colin nods. He can hear it. He doesn't know what it is, though. Gathering light, and the rumble of joy underneath.  
  
And a voice. He can't make out many words, but the voice is so full of the universe, _fearless am i brave_, the light is draping over, through.  
  
Ephram is watching him and Ephram's mouth is moving. The fact that Ephram knows the words even if Colin doesn't makes him feel much better, it makes the headphones feel more like a crown and less like a noose.  
  
They're watching each other, _black flowers blossom_ between them, and it's not bravery it's _fearless on my breath_. _Most faithful mirror_. Colin closes his eyes before he makes the mistake of speaking.  
  
It shivers in his chest, across his cheek, and the word "bridge" appears in the darkness. He opens his eyes. Ephram is leaning beside him, almost pressing against the headphones. He can feel Ephram's mouth moving over that voice, and then the words and the air on his cheek don't match. _The fire of a confession_.  
  
Colin moves his lips, he's trying to say, "This, I like," but his throat is choked with the voice and Ephram's breath. He wants to break the silence outside his head with normal words that don't mean anything.  
  
His right ear is suddenly cold, and Ephram is in his ear, "I said, do you like it?"  
  
Colin nods. He swallows. If he looks, if he even moves his eyes, he'll do something stupid, so he nods and he says, "This, I like," while watching the digits fade up on the face of the stereo.  
  
Ephram smiles, Colin can feel it around the death-knelling piano. "I knew you would," he says. And the voice is _stumbling a little_ as Ephram puts the earpiece behind Colin's ear. The world makes less of the music on the other side of his head.  
  
Ephram takes another cd out of the binder. "Portishead," he says. "Harder. You'll like this, too."  
  
Colin nods and loves Ephram's hands as he puts the disc in a spare case. He wants to say, "I like anything you like," but that would be pretty obvious and he's not stupid, just an amnesiac.  
  


End.  
  



End file.
